A workbench journal, not a product reveal
There is a particular kind of quiet in the studio before a new piece is finished. A pencil rests beside a paper pattern. A test cup waits near a brush. Someone turns it slowly in both hands, checking where an image begins, where it ends, and how much open space the clay needs. The work is still allowed to change. That is what makes a work-in-progress worth sharing: you can see attention before it becomes certainty.
Our latest sample is one 12oz double-sided Stoneware Mug. The two reference views show the front and reverse of the same physical piece, rather than separate products. Its softly cylindrical body carries a warm, speckled Vanilla Ice glaze, a substantial rounded rim, and a broad C-shaped handle. The shape feels familiar enough for an everyday morning, while the two quiet terracotta-colored scenes ask you to turn the cup and look again.
One side gathers the forest floor. The other leaves room for a single evergreen. Together, they hold the feeling of a winter walk without turning the mug into holiday decoration that must be packed away in January. Pine cones, dry needles, pale light, and a steady tree belong to the whole cold season. They can remain on the breakfast table long after the ornaments are gone.
Forest floor and quiet evergreen
The front motif measures 50mm high by 90mm wide. Pine cones rest among spreading pine needles, centered close to the base so the design feels grounded by the weight of the cup. The arrangement is broad and low, much like the small gatherings you notice underfoot when a path softens with fallen needles. Cone scales create a slow visual rhythm, while the fine points of the needles keep the silhouette from feeling too formal. Above it, the Vanilla Ice glaze is left largely open. That breathing room matters.
Turn the same mug around and the mood changes. A slender pine tree, 45mm high by 25mm wide, stands in the lower-right area close to the base. Its trunk meets the base line, and the small offset placement leaves a wide field of creamy speckled glaze around it. The tree does not fill the surface or demand the center. It feels more like something seen at the edge of a window: present, upright, and quietly keeping its shape through winter.
We kept returning to this contrast during sampling. The front holds abundance close to the ground. The reverse keeps one small figure apart. A day can contain both experiences. There are mornings when comfort comes from a full table and familiar voices, and others when the kindest thing is ten minutes alone with a warm drink. One cup can accompany either moment without instructing you how the moment should feel.
The dimensions are small details, but they protect the story. If the pine-cone composition rises too high, it loses its forest-floor weight. If the tree moves toward the center, its solitude becomes a logo-like statement. Keeping each motif close to the base allows the natural Vanilla Ice field to do part of the work. The eye has somewhere to rest.
Where glaze gives way to clay
The surface depends on a Wax-resist glazing technique. Before the Vanilla Ice glaze covers the mug body, liquid wax is applied to the pine-cone-and-pine-needle motif on the front and the small pine tree on the reverse. The wax prevents glaze from settling over those chosen areas. During firing, the wax burns away, and the protected shapes remain visible as matte exposed raw terracotta Stoneware silhouettes against the softer cream glaze.
This process creates a contrast you can understand with your fingertips. The Vanilla Ice field has a smoother satin-matte touch, scattered with tiny brown speckles. The terracotta-colored motifs feel drier and more mineral. The change is restrained, closer to the sensation of moving from a glazed cup wall to exposed clay than to pronounced surface ornament. Light also behaves differently across the two areas: it glides gently over the cream glaze and settles more softly on the matte Stoneware image.
Wax resists absolute sameness. A hand follows the edge of each paper guide and lays down the liquid wax; a slight natural variation can remain where that line meets the glaze. Speckles also fall with their own irregular spacing. We do not need to exaggerate these differences or turn every variation into a grand statement about making. They are simply honest traces of a process carried out by hand. Two mugs may share the same dimensions and placement, yet still hold tiny distinctions when viewed closely.
There is care in what the process leaves uncovered. Much of pottery is about adding: clay, water, glaze, heat. Here, part of the image appears because glaze is asked to stop. The bare terracotta color gives the pine forms warmth without introducing another glossy finish. It lets the material itself become the color.
A small forest ritual for cold mornings
A winter pause does not need a complicated recipe. For a gently spiced ginger-maple cocoa, warm 8 ounces of milk or unsweetened oat milk in a small saucepan over medium-low heat. Whisk in 1 tablespoon of unsweetened cocoa powder, 1 to 2 teaspoons of maple syrup, 1/8 teaspoon of ground ginger, and a small pinch of salt. Keep the heat low enough that the milk steams without boiling. After two or three minutes, when the cocoa is smooth and fragrant, pour it into the mug. Add a thin slice of fresh ginger while warming the milk if you prefer a brighter edge, then remove it before serving.
Set the spoon down before taking the first sip. Let the mug rest between both hands for a few breaths. Notice five ordinary things: the warmth reaching your palms, the dry touch of the terracotta motif, the smoother Vanilla Ice glaze, the scent of cocoa and ginger, and the first quiet sound you can hear beyond the kitchen. This is not a test of concentration. If your thoughts keep moving, the drink is still warm and the pause still counts.
You can turn the pine cones toward you when the morning calls for coziness and visual fullness. On a more solitary day, rotate the small tree into view and leave the creamy negative space facing the room. The gesture takes a second, but it gives the object a living relationship with the day instead of fixing it in one display position.
Our 1/24 practice begins with the idea of reclaiming one hour from the twenty-four, though an hour is not always available in one piece. This recipe takes about five minutes. Drinking it slowly may offer ten more. A small interval can still belong fully to you: no screen on the table, no task completed between sips, no need to turn rest into another measure of success.
The patience behind a seasonal pre-order
Small-batch Stoneware asks for time at several points. A sample must be checked for proportion and handle comfort. The front and reverse placements need to stay consistent when the mug is held and turned. The Wax-resist glazing technique adds another careful stage before glazing and firing. Then the finished pieces need to cool before the surfaces and motifs can be inspected in clear light. Rushing any one step would save hours at the cost of the details that made the cup worth producing.
That slower rhythm is why we are approaching this autumn and winter release through a seasonal pre-order with early-bird studio access. The invitation is simple: if this one double-sided mug feels at home in your cold-weather routine, you can choose it before the small batch is completed and wait alongside the studio. We will not invent urgency around a process that is already asking us to be patient.
For now, the sample stays on the workbench. We turn it from pine cones to pine tree, check the 50mm Γ 90mm front and the 45mm Γ 25mm reverse, and watch soft daylight move from glaze to exposed Stoneware. Soon it may hold cocoa, coffee, or tea at another kitchen table. Until then, it is still teaching us where to leave space.
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